


Programmed

by hyakinthos



Category: Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward - Fandom
Genre: Gen, I AM SORRY, Mention of blood, Pre-Canon, nothing too bad though, poor k, possible tw for child neglect, really spoilery finish the game first
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:53:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3274031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyakinthos/pseuds/hyakinthos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All little children hurt themselves periodically, and Kyle is not an exception. It's just that his father is very busy, and doesn't have the time or inclination to make the poor thing feel any better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Programmed

  
    Even though he was generally protected by layers upon layers of thick metal, Kyle, like any child, hurt himself from time to time. It was inevitable, a degree of clumsiness ingrained in all children for time immemorial.  
  
    And of course, no matter how cold their upbringing, nor how little human comfort it had gotten them over the years, no young child was able to keep tears at bay in situations such as these.  
  
    Little Kyle had scraped his forehead on the edge of his bed, and already tears spilled onto his cheeks. He pressed his fingers to his head, finding that he'd cut himself on some minute jagged edge or another, and he took off running. Maybe he'd be able to get to the laboratory before any GAULEMS or that awful, constantly-glitching prototype his father called Lagomorph noticed him.  
  
    Blessedly, or not, he made it to the laboratory (his birthplace, unbeknownst to him) undetected, and panting breaths gave way to disconsolate sobbing as the door slid open. His father's back, the most familiar part of him, was hunched over the table as the Doctor scribbled down notes on a whirring centrifuge. Kyle parked himself just inside the door, metal gloves rubbing at his eyes. A few moments passed, and the Doctor's research came to a halt.

    Briefly, Kyle was hopeful, maybe this time would be different. Maybe the sting of antibiotics would be accompanied by something other than a tinny warning that the process might be unpleasant, maybe someone who wasn't programmed to would kiss his forehead and wave him off, maybe his father would even smile.  
  
    The doctor turned, and even at his tender age, Kyle realized that hopes of that happening were virtually zero. His father's jarringly youthful arms were crossed, and the annoyance on his face was nigh on heartbreaking.  
  
    "Kyle," the doctor began, his voice the cold steel of the walls, "Is it serious?" Even a child as small as Kyle, who was in the neighborhood of seven years old, could tell that he hadn't asked out of any frivolity like caring.

    "N-not really…" the child admitted, wiping at his eyes. The metal of his hands was uncomfortably cold. He wished he could take just the gloves off, but he knew it would just land him in more trouble than he was already in.

    "Then why didn't you go to Luna?" the doctor demanded in aggravation. The child wouldn't accept a GAULEM for a mother, but it was the best he could do at the moment. Best to at least pretend she was a human around him.

    Kyle considered protesting for a moment, but recognized the idea as completely futile. "I'm sorry," he squeaked, before curling up even tighter and collapsing into sobs again.

    The doctor nodded, but his expression didn't waver for an instant. "You know better than to bother me when I'm working," he stated simply. His tone was measured and flat. It sounded, strangely, more artificial than Luna's.  
  
    "I'm sorry!" the child repeated, clumsily getting to his feet. "I'm sorry, Father. I've forgotten myself." Equally mechanical, his response was just as programmed as the admonition.  
  
    "Next time, go straight to Luna," the doctor instructed him, an edge in his voice as he turned back to his research. Kyle stood stock-still for a moment, his mouth lolling open. Tears and dried blood had made his face feel stiff, and his eyes hung half-closed.

    He finally left when he heard the centrifuge begin to spin again. If he was just as much a programmed thing as she was, perhaps he belonged with Luna anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we are. I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
